


Black Shuck is a Lapdog

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, First Meetings, Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Supernatural Elements, Were-Creatures, Werewolves, kaifectionary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: Jongin is assigned as a bodyguard to a powerful young witch. He has no idea how to be a bodyguard to begin with, but his own budding feelings may get in the way of him finding out.





	Black Shuck is a Lapdog

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt R2.010 "Black Shuck" is a name for the black dogs English witches reportedly used to torment people in the Middle Ages. Those witches who were believed to transform would transform into black dogs. Some people believed that the Devil appeared as a black dog.
> 
> I want to continue this. I rushed and was late (thank you, mods, for your patience and understanding!), but I really liked this prompt and like this AU. There is more kind of outlined, but it's more in the future, so I couldn't get to it.

In a society that thrives on magic and power, Jongin feels that he has neither. As a wolf, he has the innate ability to change form to human and back, but that’s not _real_ magic.

Animals don’t have magic.

The youngest of four, he’s on the bottom rungs of the social hierarchy, too.

So he’s doubly concerned when a messenger flies to their den with notice that Jongin should report to the village elders.

Wolves live outside the village. The humans—non magic and witches alike—seem to feel safer separated, although the elders continue to invite and promote wolves to certain witches as their protectors. It’s an arrangement no one seems to know the beginnings of or why it continues, but it’s mutually beneficial and even an honor.

Jongin still tries to hide behind his siblings, although his size and inky black fur make him stand out. One of his brothers licks his ears encouragingly, and the other paws at his muzzle. “It’s an honor! Don’t be afraid!”

He _is_ afraid, though. And he’s confused. And he’s scared. And he can tell his siblings are just as anxious as he is—if not moreso.

Their den is quite far from the village; he’s only seen it from a distance, not having any reason or real desire to investigate further. He’s never even met a witch since Kyungsoo stayed with them several years ago—his dragon, a “superior protector,” was too weak to fly after catching an enchanted arrow in his wing. His oldest brother broke its shaft in his jaws; his resiliency to magic is that strong.

 _He_ should be going to the village, not Jongin.

The messenger, a phoenix named Chanyeol, chatters while they walk. The trees grow too densely together for him to fly, and his plumage is too heavy for him to fly far, anyway. It drags along the forest floor, a beautiful carpet of fiery reds and golds that leave light scorch marks and makes dry leaves curl into themselves. Jongin trods over the brighter embers and shakes his coat free of ash.

For as glorious as it is, though, Chanyeol’s tail repeatedly catches in briar bushes and picks up twigs and leaves that the vain bird insists he has to stop and pick out.

At the rate they’re going, it’ll be morning before they reach the village. Jongin could find his own way by following his nose, but he doesn’t know what would happen if he arrives without the messenger, unofficially his escort.

He’s heard that strange wolves are still burned at the stake.

While Chanyeol breaks apart another cluster of twigs from his feathers, Jongin lies down. “Why don’t you ride on my back?”

Chanyeol eyes him curiously, black eyes gleaming. “Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to keep grooming his pretty tail every five minutes, but he also doesn’t want to seem too eager. Wolves are very proud, and it’s entirely possible that the young wolf will simply roll over and crush him, if he insults him. “I’m heavier than I look. This is real gold in my feathers...”

Jongin roots around the leaves with his muzzle, snorting when an ant clings to his nose. “It’s fine. We’ll make better time; I can move more easily without such grand feathers. They’ll stay cleaner off the forest floor.”

“Well,” Chanyeol says, carefully touching the wolf’s foreleg, “if you insist.” He flaps his wings to help him onto the wolf’s back and finds a comfortable perch behind his shoulders.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” He has to cling tighter with his talons when the wolf stands; he’s quite tall, and Chanyeol actually isn’t very fond of heights. He’s less fond of heights that _move_. “Just follow this same direction until you reach the river, then—”

“I can find it.” Jongin springs over a fallen tree and bolts among the trees, building a steady rhythm.

He may not know magic or power, but he knows the pure joy of _moving_. He loves to run. Since he was a pup, his favorite thing was running around the forest with his siblings. A family of foxes lived in a hollow just outside the Kim den’s territory, and Jongin played with the kits, who were even more wily and playful than his own siblings.

The trees start thinning out, and Jongin hears the bubbling of running water. Soon, there’s less of the crunch of leaves beneath his paws and more the dull thud of packed earth.

He’s outside his territory but senses no danger, yet. As he slows to a trot and finally a walk, he keeps his nose in the air, just to be sure. He can hold his own in a fight, but he’d rather not, and he doesn’t know how Chanyeol would be.

“Stop here a minute,” the messenger wheezes.

“You alright?”

“I’m great. Just let me down a bit before I ruin your fur.” The phoenix nearly tumbles from Jongin’s shoulders and toddles on unsteady legs to the edge of the river. Rather than drinking, he dunks his head and shakes vigorously, tendrils of steam rising from his beak. “I don’t think I’ve ever travelled so fast.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says. His ears lower a little, but there’s a playful edge to his voice that the phoenix doesn’t pick up on right away.

“It’s okay! You were right; we made much better time, and my feathers are still quite clean…” They’re a mess, though, and he sits down to set them back in order.

Jongin watches for a little while, still kind of sorry, but running brightened his mood. He lays beside the river and drinks deeply.

He stops, lifting his head and ignoring the small waterfalls of water that drop from his jaws. He can smell humans, horses, and fires, and they’re close. For as nervous as he is, Jongin is also rather excited. He’s only ever met the one human, Kyungsoo, and it was a long time ago; his siblings have no experience, either, but the rumor is that being asked to protect a witch is an honor. It means that witch has unique and strong powers, so he wonders what kind of person “his” witch is. Above all, he hopes they’re kind and patient.

A twig snaps a short distance away. Chanyeol is still busy with his feathers, essentially a sitting duck and perfect prey, although anyone who tries to eat a phoenix is in for a hot surprise.

Jongin sits up and follows the stranger’s movement with his ears. They’re downwind; he can’t smell them, yet.

A sleek red fox slinks from behind a rotten tree, tails wagging merrily. “Well, well, well! Aren’t you a ways from home, puppy?” Chanyeol squawks and nearly falls into the river. Jongin catches him with a paw, and he returns to his upset feathers, keeping an eye on the fox.

“Taemin!” Jongin bounds to the fox and drops to his chest, tail shaking eagerly. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“New territories, new vixens, new responsibilities, my friend. Maybe you’ll understand, someday.” Foxes don’t follow the same rules wolves do, and fox _spirits_ ’ agendas are entirely different. It seems Taemin changes his mind about becoming human every other time they meet.

The fox touches their muzzles together and whacks Jongin’s face with one of his tails. “Who’s your friend?”

“Chanyeol. I was asked to go to the village.”

“The wizard village?” His tails wag with curiosity. “I heard witches have taken on wolves as protectors, but are you ready for that? It’s a forever thing, isn’t it?”

Jongin’s ears sit back, and he shakes his head. “I-I don’t know?” He assumed this trip was going to be like an introduction, what humans call a job interview, and he’d be home again tonight or the next morning. Is it actually a sure thing? Does he have no choice? Will he never see his family again?

Taemin turns on the phoenix, hackles raised. “Haven’t you told him anything, featherbrain?”

“I’m just the messenger!” Chanyeol squawks as he’s pounced and pinned. Phoenix are large birds, but if he can’t get his talons between his body and the fox’s, then he’s stuck.

Taemin sits on him and growls, a hissing sort of sound from the front of his throat.

“I’m just the messenger! I promise I’m just the messenger!” Chanyeol cries. “I don’t know anything!”

Jongin paws at his tails. “Taemin, leave him. He really didn’t know; it’s okay.”

The fox snorts a sigh and hops away, nuzzling Jongin sympathetically. “They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, got it? You’re a wolf; stand up for yourself.”

“Okay…”

“On the bright side,” he chirps, “if your witch practices a little dark magic, you can set aside some livers for me.”

“I thought you wanted to become human.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda fell off the wagon,” Taemin admits sheepishly. “Again.”

“That’s disgusting,” Chanyeol, a strict vegetarian, states.

“I wonder if there’s any benefit to devouring the heart of a phoenix.” The fox licks his lips. Chanyeol scurries behind Jongin, finally more concerned about his well-being than his feathers.

“Find out some other time. I still need him.” Jongin stretches his forelegs before him and arches his back, quivering with his stretch. Shaking out his coat, he lays down again for the messenger to climb onto his back. “We should get going.”

“Good luck, Jongin. I hope it goes well, whatever you choose.” And he means it; Jongin knows he does. For all of his tricks and preying on humans, Taemin has a good heart. For a fox.

Chanyeol keeps looking over his shoulder as they embark into the woods again, following the flow of the river towards the village. He never thought he’d prefer the company of a wolf, but foxes are a whole different breed of scary.

“We’re almost there,” he says, assuring himself more than the wolf. He was nervous enough, being sent into wolf territory by himself, but he was told that the Kim pack are reasonable and trustworthy; he would have no trouble as long as he was up front and open. Along the way and back, he imagines foxes in all of the bushes and nymphs in the shallow water and fae hiding in the leaves. Tricks and traps and all kinds of bad things.

If worse comes to worst, he can just ignite himself, but reincarnation is a literal pain. Plus, he’s even more vulnerable as a chick or fledgling.

They come to a gradual stop, and Chanyeol’s attention returns to the present. They’re just outside of the village, within sight of the water mill. Humans walk along the street, pushing carts and leading tethered animals and talking over one another. The buzz of conversation reaches Jongin’s sensitive ears, and he shies away.

Chanyeol jumps to the ground with a flap of his wings, landing prettily. Hastily setting his feathers in order, he looks up at Jongin. “I know a backway to the elders, if you want to avoid people.”

“Thank you.” He’s just not ready, yet. The curiosity is weighed down by anxiety.

The phoenix ruffles his feathers and steps off the main road, walking away from the water mill and making an arc that cut through people’s backyards. Jongin keeps his steps light and body lowered. He hears a small gasp and freezes, meeting the wide eyes of a small human.

“Jongin?”

The wolf trots after Chanyeol, allowing himself a rueful smile when he hears the child telling her mother about the _giant black puppy_.

Houses and cottages grow to greater buildings, where the smells of humans and food and soap and a plethora of unfamiliar things assault Jongin’s nose. The trees are still relatively thick, and he hides as well as he can, but Chanyeol struts right out into the open, where the trees have formed a wide ring around a single, massive tree with a stretching canopy and many birds in its limbs.

“Welcome to the Center!” he proclaims with a grand sweep of his wing. Noticing his lack of audience, he turns back to the back path. “Are you alright?”

“I’m nervous,” Jongin admits. His legs are shaking. Even when his family took him hunting for the first time, he wasn’t so nervous. This time, he’s all on his own.

Chanyeol gently touches his paw with a taloned foot. “I’ll stay with you. The Elders are good people; I’ve known them for many lifetimes. Let’s just go inside, alright?”

Jongin nods and follows the phoenix to the large tree in the center of the clearing. Chanyeol walks beside him, close enough for the wolf to feel the heat from his feathers.

Something triggers a door; the trunk of the tree opens as they approach. Worn stairs wind down, into the earth. Even though his pack lives in a den, it’s not nearly so deep. Jongin can smell the damp and hear all the mice and bug crawling through the walls.

“To be honest, I’m not too keen on this, either. I’ve brought quite a few wolves here in the past, and I always can’t wait to get topside again.” Being a bird, Chanyeol’s feeling is understandable.

After a while of walking, Jongin can clearly hear the muted mumble of many voices, and the smell of people comes through the earthy essence.

Before they even reach the interior door, decorated with an intricate carving, someone calls, “Enter,” and it opens.

The room is wide and cavernous, with a high ceiling and smooth floors and walls, although roots have slowly been growing into the meeting room—or maybe the room exposed the roots. All that’s inside is a round table with three people and three wolves sitting around it. A few cushions spot the floor before the table, and the middle Elder gestures to them with a hand. “Please, sit.”

With Chanyeol at his side, Jongin cautiously walks into the room, flinching when the door shuts behind them, and sits on a cushion farthest from the table. He hopes his shaking isn’t visible, but he can tell the other wolves are sympathetic.

“Thank you Kim Jongin, for making the trip to talk with us. We are the Elders, and we want to ask you for your help. If you have questions, let us explain, first.” They look to their left, and that Elder speaks.

“The grandchild of a prominent and powerful witch family has developed unique powers we must protect. Magic cannot protect magic; it’s one of the laws magic and magic-users must follow. Wolves, as a borderline creature, are the greatest protection of and against magic.

“We understand that you are the youngest of your family, but you are also the strongest—or you will be, in the future—so please accept our request.” They bow; even the wolves lower their heads.

It makes no sense to Jongin, because he understands that they want the dominant wolf—the strongest in the pack—to protect special witches like Yixing. While he is strong, however, Jongin isn’t the dominant male in his pack. His oldest brother is.

“Excuse me,” Chanyeol calls. He shifts his feathers so they fall more brilliantly and steps in front of Jongin. “I’ve brought many wolves to you and your ancestors, but I have never known the specifics of their contracts.” _Contracts?_ “Please explain exactly what you expect of Jongin and how it will affect his future.”

“You’ve provided years of dedicated service, and we appreciate it greatly, Chanyeol, but once a wolf accepts our request to meet, the contract is set.

“Since you asked, however, the contract is simple: Jongin’s life is for his witch. They cannot be apart; they cannot be separated, unless one or the other dies. It’s for the benefit of the power we strive to protect.”

The third Elder has been silent. They seems to slouch in their seat and address Chanyeol. “Go bring Zhang Yixing. Let them meet. If they are incompatible, then we will find a way to get this young wolf home.”

The phoenix nods and offers a consoling foot to Jongin’s paw. The doors open and close without being touched, and Jongin’s left alone with the Elders.

Jongin knows his job is to protect and defend Yixing, his witch, but he’s not sure _what_ he’s protecting him against or why he was chosen or how he’ll see his family again, if ever. Even as he sits with coven Elders, they talk over his head and in a language wolves never learned. He hears footfalls behind him and rotates an ear before turning his head, looking at his witch for the first time.

He’s young, for a witch and a human, not even middle-aged. Slender and rather tall, he smiles and bows when he notices Jongin looking at him. 

Jongin is a hulking wolf covered from muzzle to tail in thick, pitch black fur so dark it doesn’t seem to pick up any light at all. Strangers usually fear him based on his looks alone, so he’s a little surprised at the cordial greeting. 

Yixing the witch approaches a couple steps, stopping when the black wolf’s lip curls. He hangs back until the Elders beckon him, then he doesn’t look at Jongin anymore but stands beside him.

“Zhang Yixing, this is Jongin from the Kim pack.”

Yixing knows to keep his hands to himself and keeps his shoulders loose, allowing Jongin the wolf to stand and circle him, sniffing his clothes and shoes and finally nudging his hand with a final snort. He smells like dirt and herbs, nothing special or dangerous.

The witch finally looks at him again, and there are dimples in his cheeks when he smiles. “Hello, Jongin.”

Without him meaning to, Jongin feels his tail wag, and he senses that their audience is pleased.

The meeting ends shortly thereafter. Any questions Jongin tries to present are talked around, reduced to the honor of protecting a unique and strong magic power, as if there was no other reason for Jongin to even be alive.

Yixing leaves the room before him, and he feels a tug in his chest that pulls him to his feet.

They’re quiet on the stairs, and they both squint in the bright sunlight once outside. Chanyeol crows from his roost on a branch, dropping a couple fiery feathers that Jongin runs after to catch.

“Shall we go, then?” Yixing asks. “I live quite far, closer to the mountains.” The opposite direction of Jongin’s territory.

It’s a pretty walk, at least. A lot of it is familiar to Jongin, with the thick trees and carpet of leaves and noisy conversations of birds and vermin and fae.

Yixing either isn’t very talkative or has nothing to say, but their silence isn’t wholly uncomfortable. “We should stop,” he says after a couple hours. The sun is setting, leaving the sky red and orange. “Walking at night is dangerous.”

Twilight is Jongin’s favorite time of the day. Prey is just starting to head back to their homes and aren’t as vigilant. For a wolf, there’s nothing to fear in the night.

“If you’re tired, we can stop.”

“I’m alright. I thought you would be more tired, having walked from home today. I’ve been in the village for a while, since my family decided to ask the Elders for someone to protect me.” Yixing kicks some leaves away to sit on the songy moss beneath and pulls a wrapped package from the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s take a break. Here.” He offers a handful of dried meat to Jongin. It’s barely a mouthful, but it’s better than nothing, and Jongin hasn’t eaten since that morning.

“Thank you.”

“You can have it all; I don’t eat meat.” He frowns as he watches Jongin devor the strips of jerky, rolling a handful of nuts and dried berries in his hand. “We’ll have to figure something out, since I don’t think you’ll survive on greens and vegetables.”

“Not happily, but I’d manage.” He’s an adept hunter. As a changing wolf, he’s more omnivorous than carnivorous, but if it comes down to it, he can find his own food. With that strange tug he felt earlier, though, Jongin wonders if he’ll have be able to hunt without the witch being nearby.

Yixing stretches out his legs and settles back against the tree trunk. “I’m going to rest for a little while; we’ll make it to my home before morning.” His eyes close, and Jongin sits a short distance away.

When the witch’s breathing slows, he lays down and shuts his eyes.

In his dreams, his family is calling to him. They’re looking for him and can’t find him, because he can’t howl back. The moon is full and heavy in the sky, growing larger and more insistent when he shakes awake.

“ _Jongin._ ” Yixing sits back on his heels. Once Jongin yawns, he takes his hands from the wolf’s shoulder. “We should keep walking, now. I also heard wolves…” A witch wouldn’t know wolf territory; Jongin has kept his senses alert for signs of other wolves. So far, they’ve passed through the outskirts of an old territory and aren’t in claimed land, now.

A distant howl filters through the leaves—someone unfamiliar and calling to their pack while on the hunt. It’s achingly familiar; Jongin already misses it.

As though knowing his thoughts, Yixing offers sympathy. “I’m sorry about this, Jongin. I told my family that I was alright on my own, but they felt it was necessary to go to the Elders. They’ve had their wolves for years—I don’t even know how long it’s been, but I can’t imagine it was easy for them, either.” He cautiously touches Jongin’s shoulder. “If they allow it, we can see your family. I don’t think you’ll be able to go alone, though…”

Jongin nods but says nothing. He appreciates the thought, although it’s strange the witch doesn’t know any more than he does. If it’s such an honor to be bound for life to a witch, it should be better known and something widely celebrated. The human child thought he was a dog, and the Elders are the only other witches with wolves that Jongin or Yixing knows of.

It’s like he was taken in by a rumor. That’s not fair.

The wolves’ howls die out the farther they walk, and the forest grows even denser at the base of the mountains. Spooked owls fly from their roosts, and small animals skirt around their feet, carefully checking them out as potential enemies.

Yixing carefully waves away curious fae that mingle with fireflies. The bugs land briefly on the feathers Jongin carries at his neck, reigniting their flames. Nightflower fae step into the slowly-opening nightflowers that take in the moonlight, collecting the dully glowing pollen on their feet and carrying it to other flowers.

“We’re almost there.” The moon is already falling, and Jongin’s paws ache. His earlier nap didn’t help stave off the sleepiness of late night boredom. “There’s a stream ahead; once we cross the bridge, I live a few minutes’ walk north.”

Jongin’s sharp hearing picks up the calm stream, and he smells the fish and turtles living in it. The bridge is narrow and old, built many years ago but sturdy enough to hold Jongin.

Like Yixing said, a few minutes after crossing the stream and walking a well-worn path through the trees and shrubs, they enter a carefully tended clearing with a cottage settled at the far edge.

It’s a relatively small cottage, seemingly smaller by the sheer number of plants growing in and around it. Rabbits peek from their burrows, not at all bothered by the wolf until he woofs at them. Sheep mingle together and bleat at him; a ram even stomps the ground, shaking his head with a snort when Yixing holds up a hand, silently signalling that it’s safe.

“Again, I’m sorry about all this, Jongin. I really am perfectly safe here, but,” he sighs and smiles humorlessly, “they don’t always listen.” He opens the door to the cottage and gestures inside. “Come in.”

The inside is surprisingly roomy. A tree that grew through the cottage is hollowed out and carved into a table and benches; its branches form a second story that’s open and spacious with old rugs piled across the crooked floor. Jongin sniffs every inch he finds, snorting dust and the remnants of old spells. He sneezes a puff of yellow smoke.

Yixing removes his shoulder bag and cloak, dropping them on hooks beside the front door. He follows the wolf around, pointing out rooms and storage and where to find what and things to avoid, due to their properties or abilities.

Eventually, there’s nothing else to how or say, and the witch shrugs. “Make yourself to home.”

Jongin heads to the bedroom and curls up on the bed. It creaks beneath his weight but holds.

“...Not quite what I imagined, but we can accommodate.” Yixing holds his palms together and slowly pulls them apart, muttering words Jongin can hear but not understand. He clings to the blankets with his claws as the bed grows beneath him. The spell expands the room and pushes aside furniture making it roomy for a human witch and giant wolf. The space within he cottage remains the same; it’s a neat spell that Yixing uses a lot when harvesting plants before the colder seasons.

“That’s better.” He sets his boots beside the bedroom door and lays on his side beneath the blankets, falling asleep fast after a murmured _good night_.

Jongin lies awake for hours watching the sun switch places with the moon through the window and his new witch beside him. He isn’t used to so much open space. Back in their den, Jongin’s family slept curled around one another and even on top of one another.

Finally, his eyelids are too heavy to stay open, and he settles his head on his paws.

Some time during the night, he pushes his muzzle between Yixing’s shoulder and pillow, and the witch wakes up to the wolf’s deep breaths on his neck.

The previous night’s walking made him tired and lazy; Yixing moves so the wolf isn’t breathing on his ticklish neck but doesn’t get out of bed until his stomach grumbles at him.

Jongin stirs when the witch tries to sit up, pinning him down with a massive paw. He’s stretched out and is lying diagonally, nearly covering the entire bed. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, although it is getting difficult to breathe. 

A rooster crows in the cottage tree branches, yelling for everyone to wake up. Yixing nearly passes out from the wolf’s morning breath as he yawns right in his face.

He pretends the tears in his eyes are from his own yawn. “If you wake up, you can help me make breakfast.”

Jongin stands up and stretches his forelegs straight out, arching his tail until his back pops. Sitting with his tail around his feet, he looks ridiculous. An enormous black wolf on a messy quilt in a sunny cottage. “Breakfast?” His stomach rumbles.

“Breakfast,” Yixing laughs. “You need meat. I’m willing to adjust my lifestyle a little, if it means your survival.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jongin looks out the circular window at the flock of fluffy sheep. Some look fatter than others, and his tail wags.

“Please leave the sheep and rabbits alone. They’ve become my friends. There’s a flock of chickens that live near here, though. They’re docile, but you may still have to fight the rooster. You can have one or two of them until we figure out something different.”

Jongin licks his lips and hops to the floor, landing with a dull thud and lighter on his feet than Yixing expects.

His breakfast is filling—the chickens are all large and slow, apparently never having to worry about a predator before. Even the rooster seems merely confused by Jongin’s presence once it realizes he’s there with a hen beneath each of his forepaws.

As thanks, he picks up a few eggs in his jaws and takes them into Yixing. The witch stiffens at the amount of saliva coating the shells, but he cleans them off with a cloth and breaks them into a pan. While they sizzle and pop, he prepares some greens and an herbal tea. The smells mix together into something dizzying but comforting; it and his full belly make Jongin tired. He lies against the outer wall where the sun falls through an open window.

Yixing watches him while he cooks. He was scared, first meeting him; Jongin is the largest wolf he’s met, although he’s met so few. At night, his fur seems the purest black, but the sunlight highlights shades of very dark brown. He lies on his hip with his forepaws evenly side-by-side, eyes nearly closed in the light. From a distance, someone would probably think he’s just a domestic dog.

Jongin dozes until he hears plates set on wood. Yixing sits in the cottage tree nook with a colorful, fragrant breakfast.

Noticing the wolf’s attention, Yixing holds up his chopsticks. “Would you like to try?” The wolf’s tail wags, so Yixing picks a larger leaf from his plate and scoops some scrambled egg into it.

Jongin sniffs it a couple times and eats right from the witch’s palm.

“You’re a changing wolf, right? Have you never had eggs?”

“We rarely cook, so not like this.” Jongin licks his paw and scrubs his muzzle for any crumbs. “Our pack usually just lives as wolves; we have no reason to turn human. It’s very personal when we do, I guess.” He shrugs. “Wolves are also more powerful as wolves; humans are very weak creatures.”

“I suppose that is true,” Yixing agrees.

Jongin’s ears fall back, realizing what he said. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s alright! We are weaker than wolves and just about anything else, truthfully. I think that’s why our ancestors turned to magic, trying to find something to make us more equal. It’s not fair, though, because the boundaries of magic are much less limiting than anything else.

“My magic, for example, is healing, in the most basic sense. Any plant, animal, person can be healed by me. Regrown limbs, sealed fractures, even the natural effects of age erased. That’s why the Elders and my family are so concerned for my safety; they see this ability as a great gift. And while it is very powerful, the great limitation is I cannot use it on myself.”

“So if someone bad knew, and wanted to use your magic, they could come and hurt you for it.” Jongin sets his head on the tabletop with a heavy sigh. He can’t imagine living with such a burden.

As Yixing is now his witch, though, he’ll have to learn.

“I’ve lived here for many peaceful years already, Jongin.” Yixing smiles, showing dimples again, and eats another mouthful of food. “With you, I’m sure we can live for many many more.”

The sheep bleat and graze outside. Rabbits hop in and out of the shade, eating flower buds the sheep leave in favor of sweet grass and clover. Fae and pixies pick around them, peeking inside the cottage and gossiping about the newcomer, a _big bad wolf_. Jongin hears it all but focuses on the witch, calmly finishing his meal and making light conversation about how his days usually go and how the routine probably won’t change too much.

It’s comfortable. Unfamiliar, but comfortable. Yixing is open-minded and kind-hearted and patient, not feeling any hurry to make Jongin conform to his daily rituals and habits. He misses his pack, but he feels that he’ll see them again. He’ll try calling to them tonight.

Yixing stands up to clear his dishes, and his hand runs between Jongin’s ears as he scoots by. It’s natural and pleasant. If they can stay like this morning, Jongin thinks that they really can live peacefully together for many, many years.

He’s looking forward to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Also in Great Britain, rabbits were suspected to be witches in disguise, so hunters who believed they shot a rabbit found a human corpse, because the witch turned back after dying.
> 
> Sheep have a history in witchcraft as well. Their pierced hearts were used in France, and elsewhere placing sheep's wool where someone was sleeping was believed to collect their breath, so they could be cursed.
> 
> So...Yixing may not be the as innocent a witch as I've depicted here.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://acatwhowritesthings.tumblr.com) & [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/BeardedGingers).


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